Teardrops
by AirborneGirl
Summary: Christmas fluff. Harm gives Mac a gift with a promise.


**Teardrops**

**AN**: Just saw the re-run of "All Ye Faithful" yesterday, which makes even less sense since it's the middle of summer. But it hit another inspiration bubble and might take the heat out of the season.

Just another sweet, fluffy one-shot. I love writing those.

**Disclaimer**: Not mine, though a fortuneteller did promise me they would be soon. Should I believe her? No? Oh well…

**Spoilers**: Right after "All Ye Faithful"

_Here we go…_

Is it possible to be at once both relieved, happy, angry and worried? It must be, because it's the exact mixture of how I'm feeling. It's Christmas eve, we're enjoying a nice dinner among friends, and Harm got in here safe and sound. Without his wings though, looking tired, distracted. Whatever happened to him this time around?

Harm. My own personal enigma. Even after so many years I just don't get it. Don't know why I need him, why my heart misses a beat every time he flashes me that smile of his, why the man who has the power to make me weak in the knees has also made me cry more often than I care to remember.

Sometimes I think all it takes is just the effort of stepping up the plate and owning up to this curious mixture of feelings, but right after I'm about to do just that, all planets irreversibly gang up against us and we'll clam up like, well, clams.

So now I'm relieved. He's alive, seemingly healthy and smiling. I'm happy, because his face is glowing in the candlelight and he's laughing about a joke Sturgis just made. My stomach churns, my heart jumps.

I'm angry. At him. No doubt has he just come from doing something completely heroic, something that has to do with his wingless state. And yes, it angers me that he always has to be the hero, making me feel worried. Like the girlfriend I not-so-secretly wish to be.

Which bring me to the last of my feelings. Worried. I guess I spend half the time being around him and loving it, no matter what the situation we're in. Not that I love being in danger, but with Harm at my side, somehow I know we'll be OK. The other half of my time he's not with me, but possibly (make that most certainly) either in danger or doing something stupid which could get him into a precarious situation, leaving me worried because I'm not there to watch his oh so precious, not to mention, very pretty six.

This jug of emotions is about to overflow. This past year has worn all of us out and right now, for some reason and totally without warning, tears are forming themselves in my eyes, my resolve breaking just as Harm turns his gaze on me.

His smile immediately fades, he facial expression showing concern. His big hand reaches out for mine and I cling to it.

"Ninja Girl, what's wrong?" His voice is just a whisper.

I snap, the tears trailing wet paths on my cheeks. His thumb comes up and with aching tenderness he wipes them away. "Please don't cry. Talk to me, Sarah."

Not caring about composure any more, I lean my weary head against his hand and mumble the first thing that comes to mind.

"I was so worried about you. You always make me worried, always make me cry."

He slowly drops his hand, mumbles something to Harriet and next thing I know, he's right there next to me, gently pulling me out of my seat, guiding me to the front room by my elbow. I let him, suddenly too blurred to watch where I'm going.

He sits me down on the couch.

"Stay there, Marine. I have to get something."

He walks out the door and I can vaguely hear him open his car door. Soon he's back inside, slightly shivering since he's gone out without his cover. In his hand, he's holding a carefully wrapped box. He hands it over to me and I look at him like a bewildered kitten, not moving an inch.

He sits down next to me, still trembling. Is it me, or is he not cold, but nervous? Even his voice quivers slightly when he opens his mouth again.

"I got this for you some time ago. I wanted to give it to you when we were alone, but I think you should see it now. Would you open my gift, Sarah?"

A little confused, I tear off the wrapping to find a black velvet box. With surprisingly shaking hands, I click it open. And gasp.

Inside is a magnificently cut diamond pendant, the shape of a teardrop. It's simple and elegant, it surpasses any gift he's ever given me before, except for the gift of his friendship. Choking back newly forming tears, I look up at him.

He's definitely nervous, no doubt about that anymore. I want to thank him, but his finger against my lips prevents me from speaking.

"It's a symbol, Mac. A resolution, a promise. From me to you. May I?"

At my wordless nod, he takes the pendant out of its box and fixes it around my neck. Smiling at the sight, his hand lingering at my neck, he continues his explanation.

"I make you cry. I know I always do. Sometimes intentional, sometimes without even knowing it, but I do know that in these past years, you've shed a lot of tears over me. For me. And I'm more sorry than I can ever say. You're the most important person in my life and all I seem to do is hurt you. By not being there when you need me the most, by not being ready for anything else to happen, by simply being afraid."

That last piece makes my head snap up in surprise. Harm has never been one for this deep kind of soul searching. Not when it comes to us. What's going on here? But obviously, he's not done yet. He shakes his head as I try to interrupt him.

"I'm tired, Sarah. So tired. Of dancing around you. Of rejecting you, of not being able to admit how much I want you, need you. Of being afraid to tell you how you are the reason behind everything I do, how much time I spend thinking of you, how just seeing you makes my heart jump. But most of all, I'm sick and tired of making you cry."

Again, he touches the pendant on my neck.

"Look at this, Sarah. This will be the last tear you cry over me in pain. I'm done hurting you, done running. I love you and I swear the only tears I'll ever cause you to cry from now on will be happy ones."

With those last words said, he reaches out to me. Mind reeling, I step into his embrace. As an echo, his confession keeps washing over me, engulfing me until I have no choice but to believe them. I look up to him with bleary eyes and this time I don't need any mistletoe to kiss him with every ounce of love I feel for this man.

The kiss lasts and lasts and I totally forget where we are. When he breaks contact, heaving from the effort, he smiles at me.

"Merry Christmas, Sarah."

"Merry Christmas, Harm. I love you."

He bends over to kiss away the tears still steadily rolling down my cheeks. His smile warms me to the core.

"Happy tears?"

I nod mutely and his smile grows even wider.

"See? It's working already."

THE END


End file.
